Abigail Jones, District Four Female
Thunk!
Just off center.
Thunk!
Second ring.
Thunk!
Close, but not close enough.
Abby reached for another spear, but her hand only found air. She looked back at the makeshift target area she'd set up in the yard. Each one had multiple spears stuck in it. None of her shots had missed, but not enough of them hit the center.
Good, but not good enough. Not Hunger Games good.
The Quarter Quell announcement had shaken the nineteen-year olds of the District, as it had supposed to. People thought they were safe, and now that they weren't, panic had set in. When they thought no one was around, Abby heard some whispering about finding boats and taking their chances at sea. Even if they were caught, better a quick execution or Avoxing than getting ripped apart by mutts in the Games.
A part of her sympathised. Four was supposed to be a trained district. The fact that they even had to worry about the Reaping was absurd. A testament to how Four's traditions were holding them back.
But it was because of people like them that the Capitol announced the Reaping would take place only a week after the card had been read. Supposedly the pre-Games and Victory Tour would be lengthened to compensate for a winter Hunger Games, but that wasn't much help to Abby now. She'd only had a week to regain what she'd lost over the last six months when she couldn't bear to even look at a spear.
Only a week to become strong enough to survive the Hunger Games. To prove to everyone she had a right to be there.
And her time was up. The Reaping was tomorrow. No, today.
Abby took a deep breath, and looked out past the targets toward the sea. Dawn was breaking and the fog was rolling in like a giant blanket.
Growing up further inland, near the canneries, Abby heard the views of the sea from Victor's Village were some of the most beautiful in Four.
She looked at the sea, then at her home, so much nicer than the one she'd grown up in. And the circle of matching houses surrounding it.
Abby had gotten that house. But the house wasn't hers, and that made all the difference.
She sighed, and headed towards the closest target. Started pulling spears out with a thunk. Abby could get maybe an hour or two more training before she had to go back in and get ready.
"You didn't need to do that, Abby."
"I didn't have to, it was my pleasure getting a chance to knock sense into him."
"You know what I mean. The Reaping for the 73rd is in a few days, we're not supposed to get into fights. And… I didn't want to cause a fuss-"
"Nami, causing a fuss is my job. I live to cause fusses. And forcing the overseer's son to actually put his money where his mouth is was just a bonus."
"You weren't really going to go on a date with him if he won?"
"He wasn't going to win. Besides, I can handle him."
"We all saw that. But the teachers might have seen that too, and then you'd be in enough trouble even I might not be able to save you. Also, I can see you holding your wrist."
"Its not a problem, Landed on it a bit funny. It'll be fine tomorrow."
…
"Fine. Look it over, Dr. Jones."
…
"Ahh!"
"I guess I don't need to ask if that hurts."
…
"Lucky you, I don't think it's broken. Just a sprain. With combat classes suspended til the end of the Games, you shouldn't have to worry about aggravating it."
"Will anyone notice? I really don't want that bastard gloating. Or risk getting suspended."
"Wrap it and wear long sleeves for the next few weeks, and no one will ever know."
"Twin secret."
"Twin secret."
"So, your name is… Abigail? Is that right?"
"Yes, but my friends call me Abby."
"Abby? Oh, no. That won't do."
"...What?"
"We can't have a pair of twins named Tsunami and Abby! There's no connection there! No hook! Nothing to stick in the mind for people looking for a winner to root for"
"I'm… sorry, but it's my name? The one my parents gave me? Besides, everyone already heard it, so I don't-"
"Oh, I know that. I just thought that the right nickname would tie it all together. Like Storm. Or-wait! I know! Gayle! With a Y!"
"Gayle?"
"Like a big wind! And it works as a nickname for Abigail! We'll call you Gayle for the interview, okay?"
"But- I-"
"Yes, Gayle?"
"...will that really help Nami?"
"Honey, I'm from the Capitol. The smallest details can make or break a product. And today, the product we're selling is your sister as a Victor."
"...Okay."
"Great! Now, the interview is pretty standard. We're just going to have a conversation, you and me, about your sister. You two growing up with a single mother, how that influenced you. Maybe you can give us some funny stories about you two as kids. Next we move to the Reaping, and her volunteering for you. How she dreamed of being in the Games, but didn't think it would happen this soon until you were how you'll follow up next year, of course. That'll really build the hype for another set of twin Victors."
"But-nobody said- I mean- we're-"
"And then transition to talking about the be pretty natural. Hopefully, your sister makes it to the Final Eight and they'll air it. Only two more tributes to go!"
"Right…"
"Hello?"
"Tsunami! This is Violette Crane, from the Gamemaker's office! First, I just wanted to say, I'm a huge fan-"
," This- this isn't Nami. It's her sister."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. Gayle, isn't it? I'm so embarrassed!"
"It's fine."
"Oh, nonono. I'm a twin too, and I always hated it when people mixed the two of us up. Our mom used to dress us exactly alike, and-Well, it is good that we caught you, Gayle, because this actually has to do with you."
"Oh, really?" she asked, trying desperately to keep her voice light even as her stomach twisted. Capitol attention, she'd learned since Nami's victory, was never a good thing.
"Yes. You see, I remember way back, during the family interviews, seeing you talk about the bonds between sisters. It really spoke to me, you know?"
"Mmm"
"But what really got to me was that you teased us a little, saying we'd be seeing more of you soon. I thought that meant we'd see you volunteering too, like the Golding Twins. But then the 74th happened, and you weren't there! I mean, I'm sure you were there, but-"
"I didn't volunteer. I know." A pause. "It just… didn't happen."
"Shame. Not saying your girl last year-"
"Rielle"
"Right! Third Place is nothing to sniff at, especially at fifteen. But a bit naive, turning her back on Cato at the end. I got the feeling you wouldn't make that mistake."
…
"But what's the saying? Things happen for reasons? Because that's what I was thinking right when the Quell card was read. If you volunteered last year, you couldn't be in the Quell."
"I-"
"I said to myself, "Violette, you have to make sure that girl is in the Quell. It'll be fabulous." And I've been talking to all of my friends in the Gamemaker's office, and they all agree! So you'll be there, volunteering. Right?"
"I-this is-I need to talk to Nami first-"
"Oh. OH! That's how it is?"
"How what is?"
"Between you. My sister Iresse is the same. We used to be so close, but then she went and got herself promoted to Head of Tribute Affairs, and now she thinks I need to run everything by her first. Like because she's got a higher position makes her the boss of me."
"I love my sister."
"Oh, not saying I don't love Iresse too. But it can be hard when they're the ones that get all the attention. Although, not all attention is good, if you get what I mean."
"What?"
"Well, a few people aren't happy with Nami right now. They really wanted to see another pair of twin victors, you know. And they blame her, thinking she was worried about being upstaged. Silly, huh? There's no reasoning with some people."
"Nami's in trouble… because I didn't volunteer?"
"Some people would say big trouble, although you didn't hear it from me. And none of it matters anyway, because you're volunteering? Right?"
"I…I still need to talk to Nami. To explain…"
"So we'll see you soon?"
"...I hope so."
"Did you sleep well?"
"About as can be expected."
"And your wrist?"
"Perfectly fine."
"Good. That's good."
Abby had grown up admiring the Victors of Four. People said that while all Victors were close, the Victors of Four were like a family. Since Abby only had her sister and mother, she'd She imagined the questions she would ask if given a chance to speak with them personally, and being able to get to know them personally. Making awkward small talk with the hermit Victor Minna Alvarez the day of her Reaping hadn't been part of the plan. But basically nothing had been.
Minna ineffectively attempted to brush her recently blow dried hair out of her face. As one of the Districts closely associated with the Capitol, their Victors were all carefully styled prior to each Reaping. But new clothes and make up weren't enough to make the Victor who normally only moved between the beach and Victory Village comfortable at the Reaping.
Right now, they were off to the side of the stage, in what shadows they could find. But Abby could still feel the eyes on them both as they spoke.A part of her itched to make her excuses, remind Minna that she still needed to check-in (although the lines were smaller than normal, with only nineteen year olds eligible, that didn't mean she could wait forever.) Abby wasn't great with talking to people in the best of circumstances.
But she didn't leave. Because Minna hated talking to people even more than Abby, and she'd still gone to the trouble of asking her over the day of the Reaping. So as Minna twisted her hair in her hands, Abby, waited to see what she had to say.
Finally, she blurted it out. " So, you and Nami. You're okay?" Minna said in a rush.
Abby's first instinct was to give the standard answer. That of course things were fine. They had their ups and downs, but they could work through everything.
But Minna deserved a real answer. Or at least as real as Abby could manage "Things are… complicated."
Things hadn't always been complicated with Nami. Growing up, things had always been . Just like the rhyme from school
One for the Sea, one for the Light.
One keeps us safe at home, the other safe at night
That was them. The Adventurer and the Lighthouse Keeper. Abby was the bold one,working and fighting for their right to attend East Flanegan, and for the chance to train for something more than the work they were born into.. The one who kept them safe walking home each night and chased off boys who didn't take "go away" for an answer. And Nami was always there keeping things together at home, patching people up and smoothing things over with their landlord and the school when things got rough.
They supported each other, they complemented each other. They were supposed to grow up together, become instructors at East (Abby in combat, Nami in first aid.)
Maybe there had been times Abby dreamed of going into the Games, finding her adventure and glory, and then going home and giving Nami and their mother the life they deserved. But those were just fantasies.
Then the 73rd happened. Abby was Reaped. Nami nothing was the same again. And Abby was the one answering questions for the Capitol press and Nami's old friends. But the words never came out quite right. And Nami had her adventure, but she wasn't the same person when she came home. She shut herself off, stopped talking to people, and sometimes woke up in the middle of the night screaming for her fallen allies.
Abby tried to be there for her, asked her what she needed. But Nami would just get that distant look in her eyes and say nothing. Sometimes, she'd go to Delphi or Finnick or even Minna, but not Abby.
They were still twins. But there was a wall between them. One Abby couldn't just throw herself over physically this time. One she didn't know how to break down.
Abby didn't say all that. She still didn't know Minna all that well, and there were still people milling around them, and Abby didn't want to give people another source of gossip to torment Nami with later. She simply finished with "But you know how it is. With the Reaping and stuff."
"Right. The Reaping."
Another pause. Abby's stomach twisted as the silence grew. Nami would know the right way to make Minna feel comfortable, help her say what she wanted to say without feeling pressured. But Abby didn't have those words, and she could feel the prying glances from the gathered crowd. So she got to the point. "Is there something bothering you, Minna?"
"The Reaping." Minna's voice seemed to catch in her throat a little, but she continued, speaking more rapidly than Abby had ever heard. "Volunteering. You don't have to do it. Everyone is nineteen this year. There shouldn't be any problems with letting it go."
Oh. That. Abby swallowed hard.
She could feel the eyes of the crowd boring into her. Minna spoke too quietly for eavesdropping, but at least some of them probably guessed what they were talking about. And that they were waiting for her reply. Waiting to see if she really was the coward people called her.
Abby cleared her throat and straightened her posture. "It isn't a problem. I'm honored to volunteer for the Quell and serve Four." She declared, dredging up the words from her old presentation classes. "I have a duty to-"
"But it doesn't need to be you. You can stay out of it. No one needs to know…"
Abby failed to suppress a wince as Minna tailed off. Maybe the Victors not announcing their chosen volunteers protected some people who backed out, but it didn't work when the volunteer had been coerced into claiming she intended to volunteer on television. None of them knew about the situation with Nami at home, or that someone else had been chosen as volunteer because of it. They just knew Abby promised to volunteer, but didn't. And a fifteen year old girl ended up going into the games and getting speared in the back.
The people of Four would know she backed out. They would hate her even more than they did now. And that hate would spread to Nami.
People said in One and Two, "volunteering" didn't really deserve to use the name. Abby felt like she was in a similar situation now.
The difference was, Abby had to put extra effort into convincing people this was what she wanted. So she gave the best reassuring smile she could. "It's fine. Besides, I've been Reaped myself. I don't want to leave anyone thinking no one wants to help them." This time, at least.
Because when Susan Levy had failed to volunteer, Abby still could have stepped in. But she hadn't. She told herself she couldn't abandon Nami, that Nami needed her.
But Rielle had a family who needed her too. And she never had a choice on whether or not to sacrifice herself.
Abby found herself continuing, "And I was thinking volunteering now, when everyone is the same age, might mean something to the District. Show everyone that volunteering should be done equally. Ensuring each year, we have two volunteers and consequences if people-"
"Nonono!" Minna's voice broke through Abby's louder than she'd ever heard it before. "We aren't like that here. We protect, we don't push. Not into an arena. Not that." Minna's breathing sped up. "It isn't how it's done. If you'd have been in an arena, you'd understand why there always needs to be a choice."
A choice. But not for Abby.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it" Abby replied helplessly, trying to sound as sympathetic as she could. Abby didn't want to hurt Minna, or anyone. But every Victor she'd spoken to had said something similar. Even the Reaped ones like Finnick had brushed her off. And it went back to that point- none of them wanted to force someone to go through what they'd went through. Or punish people for not wanting that, or changing their minds.
Abby could understand that. But something needed to be done, or else more people like Nami and Rielle would get sent into the arena each year while the best prepared would watch and do nothing. That wasn't what Abby thought Four should be like.
But no one listened to her. Because she wasn't a Victor; had never been in an arena.
Minna started edging away, glancing around them like she'd only then noticed where they were. "I need to get on stage now. Nereid gets cranky if we aren't properly lined up when the cameras turn on." Minna hastily retreated up the stairs. Abby felt a prick of guilt seeing her hunch over, trying to hide among the other Victors.
That guilt only deepened as the group shifted, and she saw Nami.
Nowadays, people didn't quite believe it when they said they were identical twins. It started at the Parade, when her stylist cut her hair short, and that became her "signature look". Then there was the interview, where Nami had been plastered with makeup and stuffed into a too small sequined dress, looking more like a Capitolite starlet than Abby's sister. And afterwards… the Capitol said all they did was remove some old scars, but Abby knew what her sister looked like, and the small things they did to "tweak" and "enhance" stood out like blood spilled on fresh snow.
(Nami never confirmed it, though, and Abby couldn't even begin to think of how to ask that question. There were so many things about being a Victor she could only guess at.)
The place where it stood out most was in Nami's eyes. The shadows that were always there. That Abby didn't know how to chase away, but were always hidden under layers of makeup Nami had never wanted before.
Nami must have sensed Abby was around, because she turned and met Abby's eyes. Even with Nami up on the stage, and her on the ground. Abby could feel the pain beneath Nami's smile. When Abby explained that she had to volunteer, Nami said she understood. But the pain didn't go away.
Abby hated this. Hated that she needed to hurt her sister to protect her. But it didn't change what needed to be done. Just like it hadn't stopped Nami from volunteering before.
Abby intended to live, in any case. And if she didn't… well the Victors of Four were a family. They'd be able to support Nami if the worst did happen.
Really, it was in everyone's best interests for Abby to volunteer. A girl would be able to go home tonight. Nami wouldn't be punished for Abby's choice either here or in the Capitol. Abby herself had a chance to change things in Four. And people would stop thinking of her as a coward.
It was going to be okay. It had to be okay.
Abby couldn't accept any other option.
Caledonia Peony, District One Male
There were three types of students who attended the Academy in One.
First, there were the scholarship kids. Every few years, representatives from the Academy went around the Community Homes looking for kids who showed promise as tributes, and brought them to the Academy to eventually volunteer to fight and probably die in place of the Reaped kids each year. And they fought each other for the chance, because it was better than the long hours in the mines and factories.
Then there were the overachievers. The ones whose parents had them training with weapons as soon as they could walk, and drilled them about tactics and presentation over dinner. Their families had everything they could want but a Victor, and damn it, they were going to have one!
And then there were the normal kids who couldn't care less about the Games, because they were there to meet people and have fun before getting normal jobs after graduation that didn't involve stabbing people.
Caledonia had never been more grateful to be in the third group than at the Peony Family Brunch waiting for his communicuff to charge and the hangover medicine to kick in.
Reaping Day in One was more of a party than a punishment, and the Peony's celebrated with a reunion. Everyone needed to be in the main city for the Reaping anyway, so once a year, Peony's came together to remind themselves why they didn't normally talk to each other. All with brunch, and under the watchful eyes of Grandmother Peony, who was always standing ready to rap the knuckles of anyone who misbehaved. No matter how old they were.
Personally, Cal preferred the tradition he and his friend Jasper came up with: throwing epic Reaping parties the night before. Over a hundred people in his house, enjoying the heated pool and living it up. Swimming, drinking games, and Cal won a hundred panars from some jerk who been saying Cal was lying about being able to hit X on his own range blindfolded. Not only did he hit it, his cousin Sable helped rig the target to set off fireworks when he did. Showed him.
Then…
Something pricked at Cal's memory. A lot had happened at the party, but there was something specific about the party that happened later on, after they broke out the drinks. No, not something that happened, something they talked about…
His communicuff whined. Dang, the charger slipped while he wasn't needed to buy a new communicuff soon. Maybe he'd put the money from the bet towards that. SO he'd actually be able to do things when it ran out of juice instead of babysitting it.
Although being tied to the corner wasn't all bad. Better than under the scrutiny of his relatives.
"I'm just saying, Caledonia is already nineteen. High time for him to stop fooling around and get a job."
Because people like his Uncle Sheen tended to say stuff like that.
"One of the problems we have in Panem is how we put our children to work too young." That was his dad talking. " In District Eleven, they send their children to the fields at eleven and twelve. We don't have the same constraints here in One, and we're fortunate enough to not need Caledonia to work."
"Besides," his mother chimed in. "He has been busy with his own interests."
"Like, what? Partying?"
"He won a local archery tournament just last week. Caledonia was even invited to compete in a higher level tournament next month."
"Archery." His uncle didn't bother trying to hide the scorn in his voice. "If Glint or Sable came home wanting to pick up that coward's weapon-"
"I think Delphi Jones would say otherwise."
"The exception. Normally, when a Victor does well with a weapon, people fall all over themselves picking it up. But no tribute since Delphi has made the grade with a bow in nearly thirty years.I mean, what kind of warrior doesn't want to get in the fray and slay their enemies personally?"
Cal felt an additional prick of annoyance on behalf of his favorite weapon. Did he pick the bow because everyone knew archery specialists didn't get picked for the Games. Sure did
But archery was cool in its own right. You had to be strong to use a bow, for one thing. People didn't know that, and Cal had won a bunch of arm wrestling contests before they figured it out.
More than that, there was just something really satisfying about shooting. Pull the string, release the arrow, and bang! Something gets skewered fifty feet away. What he really loved was seeing how he could push things and still hit his target, like with the whole blindfolded shooting. If he could have a job where he could shoot targets in all sorts of weird ways, Cal would do bow was awesome.
Besides, slaying people in person sounded really gross.
Maybe they could invite Uncle Sheen to his next competition? Then he could see how cool it was, and they wouldn't have this discussion next time. They could move on to talking about boring stuff.
But right now, they were still talking about him.
"I feel like the main worry we have about Caledonia whether he's developed enough of a sense of responsibility-"
"You need to stop coddling the boy, Monaco."
A shiver went through his spine. That was Grandmother Peony cutting off his Great Aunt Milly. It didn't really matter what his Uncle Sheen thought, cause nobody liked him. But people listened to Grandmother Peony. He definitely didn't want to be under her scrutiny. But she continued.
"He's past Reaping age, it's high time he learned some responsibility. Right now from what I hear, he's spending too much time getting into trouble with the awful Grant boy, because he knows you'll smooth things over for him. Let him face the consequences of his actions for once."
Cal bristled at the insult towards his best friend. Jasper was great. He was always pushing him to try new things and enjoy life. Sure, sometimes things got a little out of hand, but nobody got hurt, so why was it a problem?
(Except for when they tried to learn how to break bottles like on TV, and Cal just got a handful of glass shards for trying. Or the time Jasper dared him to climb to the top of the Academy roof, and he fell off. But everything either healed eventually, or left a cool scar, so it still wasn't a problem)
His mother's chilly voice broke through. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but Caledonia is our only son. We want him to know he can count on us."
"What about when you aren't there any more? Do you have any plans at all to introduce him to the family business? Does he know a single thing about making perfume?"
"He'll learn when he's ready."
Honestly, Cal was wondering a little about that himself. His parents were perfumers who made custom scents for Capitolites who paid extra to have something made just for them. But they spent a bunch of time in hushed meetings and taking telephone calls late at night. Weird calls about flowers and mockingjays. Cal didn't really get how it worked, but his parents were good at their job. They'd teach him what to do.
He just wasn't in a hurry to start, and neither were his parents. And wasn't that what mattered?
His communicuff beeped. Finally, it was ready. Cal slipped it over his wrist, turned it on, and-wow, he had a lot of text messages waiting.
Cal quickly flicked through them. Most of them were about the party, but a few stood out as something else.
Five hours to back out, Peony.
You know if you do this, Headmaster Carat's going to figure out a way to expel you retroactively.
I have fifty Panars on you I can't afford to pay, so don't let me down.
Cal's memories pricked at him again. Yeah, there was something they talked about. A bet. But Cal had done a lot of bets, and none of them had caused this kind of reaction. Headmaster Carat probably had no idea who Cal even was.
Jasper would know. He was better at handling his liquor. (And never got hangovers either!) Cal scrolled through the messages looking and-ha! There was one from him. Cal opened it.
Great party last night. I'd say it was hard to top, but you're already proving us wrong. No way I could handle that shit, but I'm behind you all the way. Can't wait for you to show those jerk cousins of yours what an actually cool volunteer looks like.
Volunteer… Volunteer…
Suddenly, the memories came back in a rush (although still a bit fuzzy). Just thinking about it brought a grin to Cal's face.
What could top a Reaping Party but the Reaping itself. And who better to crash a REaping than Caledonia Peony?
Jasper was right. He was going to show everyone what a volunteer looked like.
"So, the thing is, no matter who we send, they're gonna kinda look like rejects, right? Cause if they were any good, they would have gone in the last games."
"I dunno. Marvel did pretty well, so losing to him wouldn't-"
"Second place is still dead. And someone like Dante-"
"Who's Dante?"
"Who do you think? This year's tribute. One of the scholarship kids. Anyway, he doesn't have the kind of connections to fight that sort of thing. If he wants to make a splash, he needs to show everyone he's a fighter. Then it hit me. You know sometimes in Four, they fight over who gets to volunteer?"
"Sounds messy."
"It is. But it riles people up. So let's say tomorrow, Dante's all ready to volunteer, then some random person jumps up trying to steal his thunder. Dante steps up, lays the guy out, and shows who the real volunteer is."
"So… someone would volunteer next to him?"
"Fake volunteer. Just long enough to smile, get on tv, and get punched in the gets press, and the other guy gets to brag about getting punched by a future Victor. Simple, and everyone wins, right?"
"Except for the part about getting punched in the face"
"Man, you'd have to be insane to try something like that."
"I'd do it."
"You? Yeah, right."
"Want to put money on it?"
"Hundred panars Cal backs out before Dante touches him."
"Nah, dude's doesn't know when to back down."
"Hey, I'm still here! And I can totally do it. Probably do a better job than you guys on tribute track. Some people have style!"
"And some people are morons."
"So, are you saying you're in, Cal? Should I go tell Dante what's up?"
"I'm in. And you're all on!"
Cal winced as the girl with the pixie cut slammed her opponent to the ground pinned girl struggled, the first girl responded by grabbing her by the hair and slamming her face into the ground. Blood spurted from her nose, and she stopped trying to fight. One the larger screen, Cal could see the first girl whisper something in the defeated girl's ear, before letting her go and just walking off, cool as can be.
Cal was used to seeing blood spilled in the Games. But it usually didn't start at the Reaping.
"Ooh, Dante has some tough competition. Although the other one was hotter, at least."
Caledonia frowned. He couldn't always tell what made a particular girl "hot" in Jasper's eyes. The other girl, from what Caledonia saw, had looked more like the tributes from the last few years; tall and fit with long golden blonde hair. A mini-Cashmere, basically.
Until she ran up to the first volunteer, sobbing something about how she just had to volunteer, and received a black eye and a broken nose for her trouble. Defeated and tossed in the dirt with blood streaming down her face, she didn't look as much like Cashmere.
The actual tribute (Jewel, Caledonia remembered from the announcement earlier that week) stomping her way up the steps to the stage didn't really look like Cashmere either, but she wasn't trying to be. Not exactly what people called pretty, but she was striking, at least. Sure, she was blonde like most of the District, but her hair was cropped really short. Her build was on the stocky side, and her bare arms (in winter!) were visibly muscular and covered in some sort of winding tattoo. Snakes? Vines? Barbed wire? Caledonia couldn't tell from his place in the crowd, but it wasn't something a District One girl was expected to have, much less flaunt at the Reaping.
She was also short. Like, really short. Have-to-adjust-the microphone so she can give her name short. People who hadn't seen her lay out someone much bigger than her without blinking might have doubted she could back up her attitude with muscle. But Cal was pretty sure everyone in the square believed she could kill them in a heartbeat.
The other girl did her job. Now it was time for Caledonia to do his.
Caledonia slicked his hair back. "How do I look? Like a potential tribute?"
Jasper rolled his eyes. "You look fine. Stop fishing." Easy for Jasper to say. No matter how little effort he put into his appearance he always looked fabulous.
His cousin, Glint, on his other side, snapped. "Nobody who knows you could mistake you for a tribute."
"But most of the people here don't know me. So I could be anyone. Including a tribute" Caledonia bounced on the balls of his feet and stretched his neck. "So, do you think I should jump in first thing? Like, before they finish saying the name?" Maybe he should have talked to Dante about this beforehand, so they could figure out the coolest entrances for them both. Caledonia jumped up, trying to see if he was nearby, but no luck there. "Or maybe keep them in suspense?"
"You can't keep them in suspense, you're not the chosen tribute." Glint had been in a bad mood since the Quell announcement. His parents had been a lot more into the idea of having a Victor in the family, and had been nagging him and his sister to push harder for the slot in the Quell. Way different from Caledonia's parents, who always told him they'd rather have him alive with them than pursuing glory in the Games.
Actually…"Do you want to do it? I know it's not the actual Games, but-"
"I don't need your pity. And my parents would kill me for messing with the ceremony. Not everyone's parents let them do whatever." Glint stalked off into the crowd, causing a prick of guilt in Caledonia's stomach.
Or was it nervousness? His heart was beating really fast. He didn't normally get nervous before dares or performances, but this was really big. No, it wasn't that. He was just excited. Yeah. Excited.
Caledonia tried to smooth his hair down again, only for Jasper to grab his wrist. "I already told you, you look good. Either stop messing with it, or go all-in on looking messy."
Caledonia glanced at Jasper grinning at him with his crooked smile. His heart really was beating fast. He must be more nervous than he thought.
"Alright, onto the boys."
Shoot, it was almost time. "So, should I wait, or-"
"Go early. Show them you're ready. Plus, I don't think it counts if you don't give them time to say the name."
Was that the case? Caledonia could never remember all the rules about volunteering. But there wasn't time to think, cause the Escort already had a slip in hand. "The male tribute is Ale-"
"I volunteer!"
No going back now. He shot Jasper a quick I told you I could do it grin, and bounded to the aisle, ready to show Panem what he was made of.
Cal had performed in front of other people plenty of times, at school, parties, and archery competitions. But that was all kids stuff. The moment he stepped in the aisle, arms raised, he could feel the difference in energy. All the people in the crows shifting and craning their necks to look at him. Him! Caledonia Peony! He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and just soaked in the crowd, the noise, the moment he didn't want to end.
It was amazing.
Caledonia knew this wouldn't last, that Dante would come take his rightful place soon, but he could enjoy it while it lasted.
Only… where was Dante?
Caledonia opened his eyes and glanced towards the boys section. Usually when someone was getting ready to volunteer, you could tell when they were coming from how the crowd shifted to let them through. But the crowd wasn't moving.
"Excuse me, young man. Why don't you come down here and introduce yourself?"
Oh, right. That was it. Jewel hadn't waited to challenge the other girl. Dante probably wanted to do it differently, so it looked less staged. Caledonia just needed to get on stage, then Dante would appear.
And really, Caledonia didn't mind stretching things out a little. Remembering old Performance and Presentation classes for school, he sauntered to the stage like he'd seen tributes to over the years. Flashed a smile to one person, a wave to another. Play things cool instead of staring at the screen showing his face to the entire crowd.
(And all of Panem! He was on TV! Caledonia was on TV!)
Dante really was taking his time, though. Caledonia stretched out the walk up the stairs, keeping his smile tight as he scanned the crowd. He'd have to be near the front, right? If Caledonia could just see Dante, then he'd know what to do.
Finally! There he was with his perfect curls and school issued Reaping outfit. They locked eyes. And Dante smiled and waved at him. No, waved him forwards. Like he was saying "go ahead".
What-oh!
Now he got it. A flood of relief washed over Caledonia as he bounded up to the Escort and grabbed the microphone out of his hand.
"Hey-" Dang, the thing was loud. Caledonia could feel his ears ringing. He tried again. "Hey, I'm Caledonia Peony, and I'm your tribute for the third Quarter Quell!"
He paused again, this time just to take in the roar of the crowd one last time. "Unless one of you has something to say about that?" He asked with a smirk.
There. The perfect cue. Cal set it up and Dante-
Dante-
Dante gave him a thumbs-up.
A thumbs-up?!
He wasn't going to volunteer?!
No. This was wrong.
Cal's head began to swim. His smirk froze on his face as he glanced around at the other people on stage. He wasn't supposed to be up here. They all knew that Someone would-
Someone had to do something!
"Alright then!" The Escort was back, tugging the microphone out of his hand. Maybe if he didn't let go, they couldn't finish the ceremony. A nervous giggle escaped his lips at the thought, but the Escort just pried his fingers off and replaced it.
The Escort wasn't stopping it. The Victors weren't happy, from what he could see out of the corner of his eyes, but they weren't stopping it either. Jewel (his district partner?) looked furious, but she couldn't stop it even if she wanted to.
Nobody could.
"Ladies and gentlemen I give your tributes for the Third Quarter Quell: Jewel Grace and Caledonia Peony! Tributes, shake hands!"
Caldonia was a tribute.
Caledonia was going to die. And no one was going to save him this time.
Distantly he turned and offered his hand to Jewel, feeling his hand crushed in her grip. Yeah, she was definitely pissed off. And unlike the Victors, who were at least trying to keep a neutral expression, she wasn't trying to hide it. He tried to let go, but she responded by crushing his hand more and pulling him closer. "Who are you? What the hell do you think you're doing!?" she hissed, her hard grey eyes boring into him as venom dripped from her voice.
Cal swallowed. "I-I don't know." he mumbled. Jewel growled and dropped his hand in disgust, before turning away
He'd been a tribute for less than a minute, and he'd already made an enemy. A dangerous one, too.
He didn't know what he was doing. But in this moment, there was only one thing to do. The thing every One learned from a young age.
He smiled. And waved.